Out of the Blue
by bipolar broadway baker
Summary: Eames and Arthur are relaxing after a job with the old team about a year after the Fischer Job, when Arthur gets an unexpected call- his sister. Suddenly, Eames is plunged into the past that Arthur was trying to forget, and the family he left behind and missed dearly- but most of them didn't seem to miss him. (Homophobia, past domestic violence, and scary things be here)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! New story, YAY! :) This is really fun to write, so please review and tell me if it's fun to read! There are gonna be a ton of musical theatre references here- but they are actually part of the plot, I promise, but how they relate to the timeline might be wrong in places. Sorry.**

** Arthur is about 28, Eames is 33. **

** Enjoy!**

The golden autumn sunlight cast a welcoming glow across their bedroom. It was early morning. And Eames woke up warm, content, and aching in all the right places. The body curled up with his head under the forger's chin snuggled against his chest in sleep, and Eames couldn't help but grin. He was the luckiest man in the world. He reached over a hand, and slid it into Arthur's silky ungelled hair. Carding his fingers through the point man's hair was soothing and sweet, and Eames couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he used to be _intimidated_ by the man curled up against him. The man that he now owned an apartment with, worked with almost exclusively, slept beside- or on top of- every night. His Arthur.

The point man shifted in his sleep, wrapping an arm around Eames' hips. It didn't really hit him that the other man was awake until he felt him stroking lazy circles over his hipbone.

"Good Morning, Darling." He slid his hand between Arthur's shoulder blades, feeling the man's smile pressed against his chest. The pointman dropped a kiss to his skin before adjusting to look over at him.

"Good morning, Mr. Eames." He pressed his lips for a moment over his jaw before the forger lifted the other's chin to kiss his mouth. They stayed like that for a long time, soaking up each other's presence. Arthur was solid and warm in his arms, and Eames was glad they'd stayed in their London flat a few extra days now that the latest job was over. They were set to return to their flat in San Francisco today, but their plane wasn't boarding for hours. He tightened his arms around the point man, gripping his hips and kissing the dark bruise on the junction of Arthur's neck and shoulder.

And the phone rang.

Arthur groaned, kissing the forger firmly before reaching to the bedside table, grabbing the phone with a pout "who the Hell is even up this early?" He checked the clock: 6:35. A bit early for phone calls. Just a bit.

Arthur looked at the caller and immediately woke up "Hello?"

"... Yeah- little early, but what's up?... What? No, I'm not even there right now, I'm out of the country... Look, I'll be home tonight, so... When do you get in?... Jesus- okay, see you soon." He hung up with a look of complete confusion on his face, and Eames waited for any explanation.

"Well? Darling?" He prompted after a moment, bringing Arthur back to the world.

"My sister's flying in to San Francisco tomorrow morning. She was wondering if she could stay with us."

"Which sister? The good one?" He only asked because Arthur had three sisters, all older than him. Not to mention, only one was worth speaking to, and wanted to speak to Arthur. But he figured it was worth asking.

"Yeah, Maria." Ah, the twin. Arthur's twin sister was truly lovely- or so Eames assumed. She was the only one whom Arthur spoke to or about in the first place, so the forger gave her the benefit of the doubt.

"Is anyone else coming?" Arthur's family- aside from Maria and Arthur's father, David- were rarely spoken of. The younger man was very uncomfortable talking about his mother and other two sisters, and Eames respected that- God knows, he hated discussing his family as well. But he knew the basics.

Arthur was from the upper middle class of Brooklyn, New York. His parents, David and Sharon Wendelin, had four children- Sarah, Rosemary, Maria and Arthur. David was a broadway producer, but the family only started making good money in the late nineties. Sharon and Arthur fought near-constantly and were barely on speaking terms. Same with Sarah and Rose. David, he called on holidays and such, and Arthur and he had a close relationship comparatively. Maria got semi frequent calls, however, and the forger couldn't help but think that it was a little sad that he could gauge Arthur's family life by yearly phone calls. Eames knew Sharon had strong opinions against Arthur's less than Jewish views, and homosexuality. Everything else, any details into his lover's childhood, were less than forthcoming. He was patient, he knew one day stories would start trickling along. And it wasn't like he wanted to discuss his past either.

But, sometimes he felt like he was missing something big, something he _should_ know about his Arthur.

Maybe meeting his sister would help him open up.

"No, it's just her- work seminar, and some 'big news', apparently." Arthur looked genuinely excited, but his smile fell after a moment and he looked up at him with tentative eyes. It made him look so young, Eames felt an overwhelming pang of affection. "Is that okay?" Arthur's voice was small now, and Eames stroked his hair out of his eyes to sooth away the out of character behavior. Even two years after the fact, moving in together still felt like it was a new experience for the both of them, and Arthur was so cautious with every aspect of his life, it only made sense for it to extend to his relationships.

"Of course, Arthur. And I'd love to meet her." He'd like to meet all of Arthur's family, actually. Even the horrid ones. But he didn't want to push that. The younger man smiled.

"She's a little more talkative than me. Maybe a little warmer, too."

"Impossible, Darling. You're the picture of hospitality." The point man playfully stuck out his tongue and rolled his eyes at him. Eames silenced him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He really meant it. He thought Arthur was the gentlest, kindest person he'd ever met and anyone that said differently didn't know him at all.

Arthur rolled his eyes again, kissing his jaw before rolling away and throwing back the covers.

"I'm going to bump up our flight, then we totally need a shower." He sat up with his back to Eames and the man couldn't stop staring.

Miles of pale skin covered the lean muscle of his back, and the golden sunlight of the morning made it glow. He was contemplating pulling Arthur back into bed, laying kisses down the notches of his spine, when the point man stood and walked over to the strewn out piles of last night's clothes. He admired the slight limp in Arthur's step as he slipped Eames' used trousers over his long legs and folded the other garments. He talked about coffee and how Eames should do that while he shifted the flight.

"Get your ass outta bed, Eames. You're meeting my sister today." He called over his shoulder as he pulled one of the forger's big sweaters over his head. It hung on his frame and swamped him, but it was still just so pretty, Arthur looked so hopelessly perfect that Eames was a little scared of how much he loved him.

Sometimes he wondered if Arthur was completely unaware of the effect his looks had on people- Eames specifically.

"Make me coffee and you can join me in the shower, Mr. Eames." Came a sing song voice from the kitchen.

How silly of him: Arthur _always_ knew what he was doing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two! I hope you like it- review and let me know! **

They arrived stateside with a few hours to spare before their guest flew in. The apartment was just as they left it, not a thing out of place.

This was probably Eames' favorite of all their flats- London, San Francisco, Mombasa, and Paris. The early evening light cast moats of warmth across the dark wood floors, and the tall bookcases made the dark green walls look decorated, but not too personal.

Maybe he loved it because he was with Arthur, but it just felt like _home_.

"I'm gonna lock up the guns." Arthur called as he dropped his bag in the front hall. "What kind of booze do we have?"

"Wine, that old champagne, a bit of scotch..." Eames rattled off as the point man pulled back a few stacks of books above the sofa- standing on it quite adorably. "The usual stuff, I suppose."

"Yeah, she'll like that. Maria's not a huge drinker, anyway." He huffed out a breath and got down off the sofa, guns carefully stowed. Eames frowned a little.

Arthur was not the type for sharing and caring. When something was bothering him, it was like pulling teeth. At least, it was for most people, if Arthur was uncomfortable, or didn't trust the person, or that person wasn't Eames. Most of the time. That's the way it had been when they first met, even when they had first gotten together. It still happened sometimes, and the point man would draw in on himself.

The forger came up behind the other man, wrapping his arms around the point man's waist. "Everything alright, my Love?"

"Fine." He placed his hands over the forger's placatingly, squeezing them before pushing gently from his hold. "I'm fine, Eames." There was a long moment of silence, dejected and starting to feel like part of the furniture. Arthur disappeared into the master bedroom with a suitcase in each hand, leaving Eames in the living room reaching for someone who wasn't there anymore.

They had been fine this morning- more than fine- and Arthur had seemed happy at the idea of seeing his sister.

Eames poured himself a fifth of scotch and sat down on the sofa, rubbing his eyes. He nursed the glass for an undetermined amount of time, watching the dust moats in the shafts of sun.

Arthur was unpacking, he presumed. Ever the productive one. When they first met- Eames a few years out SAS and working his way through a few art forgeries in Rome, and Arthur fresh out of the Marine Corp, not even 20 years old and looking even younger, with a PASIV in his hand and Mal to guide him- Arthur's intense work ethic seemed almost compulsive. He was really quite mellow now, but the old Arthur, from their first job in Rome, would sometimes rear his stiff, anxious head.

"I'm sorry." He almost choked on the drink when he heard it. Arthur was the sneakiest ninja of a human being he'd ever known. The younger man stood sheepishly in the entryway from the back hallway, and Eames quickly got his bearings. "I haven't seen my family in years. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that it's Maria, if anyone, but... I've changed a lot, and I didn't leave on good terms... I don't know what'll happen."

His fingers itched to check his totem. Was this really happening? Arthur, opening up to him without prompting? They'd been getting better at this, but it usually still took a few days of slowly building tension and stand offish retorts. The forger reached out a hand and beckoned the younger man to join him on the sofa. "Drink?"

"No. I should go soon." He sat down beside him, all tense shoulders and a creased brow. "Maria's flight gets in in less than an hour-"

"And the airport is quite close by. You'll still make it if you stay a couple more minutes." Eames placed a palm on the back of the American's neck, squeezing reassuringly. A corner of Arthur's mouth turned up wryly, and he leaned himself softly against Eames on the sofa. The forger wrapped his arm around him and dropped a kiss into his beautifully gel-less hair. "I'm sure this will turn out just fine in the end, Pet. Just you wait."

It didn't serve to make the point man feel any better, but he still let himself snuggle closer in Eames' hold, breathing in the homey scent of honey, newsprint, and cigar smoke. The forger stroked a hand down his spine and held him tight for a long few moments, when a thought struck him.

"Arthur, does your family know about us?" The point man tensed in his arms and sat up to look at him.

"I believe so. I told my dad, and I told Maria. They must've told Sharon, Rose, and Sarah at some point, they can't keep secrets for shit." He fixed Eames with a bemused look. "Why?"

"I just wanted to make sure, before your sister walks in that door and sees a strange man making dinner in her brother's apartment." He grinned, feeling Arthur's smile warm him inside. The feeling spread through every fiber of his being when the younger man reached out and interlaced their fingers. He lifted the paler hand and kissed the back of his knuckles, and Arthur blushed as he looked at his watch.

"I should go." He pulled away his hand, but pressed a firm kiss to his mouth as he got up. "See you soon, Mr. Eames."

"I'll be here." He grinned back, knowing he would never even want to go. Arthur's smile turned a little softer at that, but he almost looked sad as he turned out the door, keys in hand.

Eames resolved to dismiss it as a trick of the light, and started on dinner. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3! I'm putting the first few up early, so you guys can get a sense of what's happening. :) Let me know if you like it by reviewing! **

** Point of reference: I see Maria looking like Gen Padalecki. And Queenie is a character from the musical "The Wild Party". It'll make sense soon. :)**

** Enjoy!**

"ARTHUR!" The baggage claim was swamped with people, and Arthur- like always- heard her before he saw her. A blur of familiar dark hair and a dimpled smile that matched his almost perfectly slammed into him and threw its arms around his neck.

"Ri!" He grabbed her back and hugged her tight.

"Oh my god, I _missed_ you! Where have you even been!? Let me look at you-" she pulled away, beaming.

Maria looked good. She was still about a head shorter than him, her big brown eyes shining as she looked him over. Her long brown hair was pinned out of her eyes and she glowed in her little dress and cardigan.

"You bulked up, man." She whistled "and yet, you're still too skinny." She half-teased, smiling as they ambled over to grab her bag. They walked to the car in content silence for a moment, and Maria slipped her arm through his as they did. And there was something that caught his eye.

He stopped dead in his tracks "Holy shit! Why didn't you call me!?" The ring was beautiful. A square cut diamond just big enough for her little hand.

"I tried to call you, but it didn't go through! You must've been off in Europe, time zones and shit... But, I kinda just wanted to tell you in person. It's been years, ya know... But oh my god, right!? I'm getting married!"

Arthur beamed. She had been dating Ian since they were 19, and he had been Arthur's teenage best friend back in the day, too. "I'm so happy for you."

Maria smiled back earnestly, hearing the genuine happiness in his voice. "Actually, that's part of why I'm here... I wanted you to come to my wedding. And that sexy new man of yours, he's gotta come too. Dad wants to meet him so bad. Before you say no-"

"Ri, I'd love to go." He really would, but there were so many reasons that he left home in the first place. "You know that. I just... I can't be back there. With Sharon breathing down my neck, and Sarah picking fights with me, and the possibility of running into... So many bad things are back at home for me, Maria." He sighed and looked at his feet. There was a long silence, and he didn't want to look up. The point man could feel the eyes on him, and turned on his heel, packing her suitcase into the the trunk of his pretty little Audi. They were quiet for a long while.

"So." She chirped.

"So." He echoed.

"You've got a man?" She waggled her eyebrows as she slid into the passenger seat. "We have a lot to catch up on, Queenie, it's been five whole years."

He didn't know whether to wince or smile at the old nickname, so rolled his eyes instead- he couldn't stop smiling, anyway. He was just glad to see his sister. "Yeah. I mean, I do. His name is Eames, he's back home, making dinner." The thought made him baulk as much as it warmed his heart. He never dreamed that what he and Eames had would go beyond a casual thing, and now here they were, making dinner, and going "home", and _meeting family_. After his history with men, Arthur had pretty much sworn them off entirely, figuring it just wasn't worth it.

He'd never met anyone quite as worth it as Eames.

"Awh, sweet- so, what does he do? How old is he? Is he cute? How long have you been together? Do you love him!?"

"Calm down, Ri. He paints-" it wasn't technically a lie, Eames was an artist, it was how he started forging. But he had no way to explain their occupation to his sister "- he's 34, I think he's pretty much wonderful, we've been together for two and a half years, and yes." He took a deep breath. It wasn't like he had never said it before, but it still felt like he was jinxing it every time. "I love him very much."

Maria grinned, but it faded fast, like she was trying to figure something out.

"You didn't tell me anything about him until you'd been together for a full year." The hurt in her eyes was heartbreaking, and Arthur squeezed the steering wheel.

"I wasn't expecting it to be as permanent as it is. I was waiting until there was something to say." He placated. Maria nodded.

It got very quiet for a long moment, and Arthur knew exactly what she was thinking, willing her not to say it, or anything about it.

"He's good to you, right?" It was a timid voice now, like she knew he didn't want a word spoken about that. "He's never... He's nice?"

"Yes, Maria." He made everything about him as impassive as possible, putting on his professional mask.

"Don't be like that, Arthur. I have to ask, after what happened-"

"Stop, Maria." They'd been back together for all of a half hour, and they were already talking about this. He'd rather talk about anything but this. "How's everyone else? Still contemplating matricide?"

She scoffed at the topic switch, but she knew him too well to think she was getting anywhere with the subject "Hell yes. Arthur, she's a wedding planning terror about me and Ian. And she's considerably less than pleased by you and your artist man, by the way."

"I expect nothing less." And suddenly, all tension was gone.

"Rose and Eric are moving to New Rochelle- she's having a baby, by the way. And Sarah is also pregnant. Again."

"Ah, the next generation. How fucking terrifying." He dead panned.

"I know, right?" They laughed. This was something he just _loved_ about his sister. She missed Sharon's childhood brainwashing, and saw every manipulative thing their mother did for exactly what it was.

As they pulled into the parking garage of Arthur's building, they talked wedding plans and about the people Arthur actually missed- Ian, Dad, his friends from their shows- and skillfully talked around the incident preying on their minds. He'd missed Maria even more than he thought, and, as much as he never thought he'd say it, he missed home, too.


End file.
